Chapter 89
Caterina
I killed my best friend. He raped my wife. He betrayed my family.
My mind was spiraling. He came to me about women, I helped him get women, and yet he paid Vincenzo for Harlow? I needed to get to my father’s estate before I drove off the road. He asked for tips. I gave him tips.
“Cat, tell me how do you properly please a woman if she’s nervous about sex?”
“Consent is always needed, but you comfort her. Not coerced. You tell her you’ll take things at her pace and let her have control if she needs it. Did you find someone?”
He blushed. “We’re not official, but I want to move to the next step, but she was hurt in the past, so I want to make sure she is treated well.”
Hurt in the past. I scoffed at the memory hitting me like a ton of bricks. She was fucking raped, and he added to her torment. I gave him tips on how to hurt her. How many orgasms did he give her because I told him about foreplay and enjoying his partner?
My fists turned white as I squeezed the steering wheel. How do I tell her he hurt her in a way I told him to? Hot tears streamed down my face as I hit the steering wheel. I was livid, pissed, angry, guilty. Every goddamn emotion under the fucking sun.
I quickly wiped my face, controlling my breathing as I got out of the car. Serenity would run up to me, and she knew how to read people. Our little girl was smart, and she didn’t need to read my emotions or I would break all over again. I was already on the verge of shattering.
My father’s butler met me at the door with a small smile.
Ever since my father got the stick out of his ass, his staff had become more open again.
I think it was because of Serena, too, and now a child in the halls instead of random women.
My father and Serenity were in the living room playing with Barbie dolls with one of his housekeepers.
His living room looked like a toy store exploded everywhere.
Serenity saw me and jumped up, bolting to me. “Hi, mi cuoricina,” I greeted, picking her up.
“Hi, Mama.” She beamed
“Did you have fun with Poppi?”
“Yes! I have lots of toys.”
I kissed her nose. “I see that. Can you stay here and play while I talk with Poppi?” She nodded, wiggling from my arms.
“I can play with Shelby!”
My father stood up and his housekeeper stepped in to continue playing with dolls.
He took my hand and pulled me to his study.
Before the door even shut, he pulled me into his arms and I shattered.
I wasn’t one to cry like this, but Harlow made me soft in the best ways.
Showing emotion wasn’t a weakness; it was strength.
Right now, I didn’t feel strong. I felt like a scared child needing her father after waking up from a nightmare.
“He raped her,” I sobbed into his neck. “Mario hurt our family, and he hurt my wife.”
My father rubbed my back as I continued to sob. “Let it out, farfalla.”
After what felt like an eternity, the tears finally subsided and I pulled away. My lip trembled. “Papa, I…He asked for advice. I gave him tips on how to rape her.”
“Caterina, you didn’t know. Mario was a charmer. He never showed hints of what he did, so you cannot blame yourself. Talk to her, farfalla, because I know while you feel guilty, she won’t blame you.”
“I should’ve known,” I mumbled. “It was my job to know who hurt our family, and he was right under our noses.”
“Betrayal hurts the most when it is from someone you trusted. I wish I could take the pain you are experiencing from you, but I promise you, it’ll get easier. He is dead. He can’t hurt either of you unless you allow it. Take your daughter home, talk to your wife, and enjoy your life, farfalla.”
“I love you, Papa.”
“I love you. Blackwell dealt with everything, so you won’t face any backlash. When he gets your reports, it’ll be listed as self-defense.”
Our reports would be binders full of transactions Vincenzo had from men, and a handful of women who bought women with a detailed list of what was done to them.
Vincenzo kept a list of when and how women were killed, so now families would be able to have closure.
We would have a lot of work to do, but one nightmare was close to being done.
My father and I walked back out into the living room, and I knew there would be a mess to clean.
When I offered to help, he declined and said he would handle it.
He said it was nice cleaning up after a child once more.
He said that now—wait until he had several more grandkids wreaking havoc in his house.
“What do you say we buy Mommy flowers before we go home?”
“Yes! Pretty pink ones?”
“Pink it is.”
My mind was still wandering, but it wasn’t as bad.
Nerves were eating me alive, and I needed to talk to Harlow.
After talking to my dad, I felt better, but now I had to tell my wife—and her reaction would make or break everything.
She wouldn’t be mad at me, but Mario was my best friend.
I taught him things, current things we did now.
It never affected us before, but now we had the elephant in the room staring right at us.
I already told her I love her regardless of if we had sex ever again or not, and I stood by that promise.
Harlow was my world. She gave me a reason to wake up every morning, and the reason I saw light in a dark abyss.
For years, I always thought I would live for vengeance and never see the day life would make sense.
Harlow was my redemption wrapped in sunshine and hope.
I still didn’t understand what I did to deserve her, this little girl singing along to the pop song on the radio, or this domesticated life.